Lost In The Dark

Chapter 11

I saw her eyes dart to the door, calculating to see how far it was and if she could make the distance. Her shoulders moved quickly up and down as her breaths became panicked. I held both my hands up defensively.

"Maria, calm down. All I want to do is talk." I said slowly, I reached behind me, took my laptop, and turned the screen towards her. Her eyes moved over the screen and a look of horror flashed across her face before she shoved it down and made her face blank, I saw the emotions battling their way to the surface, like oil in water. Maria's armor broke and suddenly she was crying, hunched over on the bed, I set my laptop down and went to console her. All those years of forcing herself not to feel had really taken its toll on her. I lifted her up and wrapped my arms around her.

"Want to talk about it?" Maria shook her head.

"If you tell me what happened, I'll tell you a story about me." She paused for a moment, thinking it over, then she took a deep breath and began.

"It was so many people!" She broke into tears again, and it was a few moments before she was able to talk again. "Three of my uncles, my 'stepdad', it was all so horrible!"

As the words steadily flowed out of her mouth, they painted a picture in my mind, young Maria forced to give herself up at the age of seven, time and time again. Forced to watch her mom and three younger brothers being abused. I saw the world darken in Maria's eyes, felt the way her body turned to ice when they touched her, felt her soul harden when she saw a new bruise on her brothers back or her moms face. I saw the world through Maria's eyes. A world that only hurt and took, a cruel world where she had no say, the world was black and blue like the bruises on the bodies of her loved ones. I felt Maria's terror when she laid in bed at night, eyes squeezed shut praying that he wouldn't come tonight, praying over and over, begging God to make it end, but God wasn't there. He never came and saved her, he watched her life being slowly bleed from her, he sat and watched, if he even existed at all. It was when she realized that there was no "God" that she finally decided to take matters into her own hands. Once that bastard was out of the picture, she thought she was finally free, free to laugh and smile, so free that it filled her with joy and she felt that she could finally breathe after being dead for so long! Yet her freedom was short lived. First the uncle that had made her "damaged goods", then her step-dad, now another uncle, one that she considered a father, why did they always pick her? Then another uncle, her life dimmed again, she receded in a dark abyss where she was unreachable, she closed herself away from friends, other kids sensed her darkness and ignored her like the black plague, suddenly she was invisible, nonexistent. Oh yes, she smiled and laughed when necessary, but it was all fake. Every smile, every joy-filled laugh, until finally she couldn't take it, and she stopped smiling and laughing all together. Then, when she was so near to pushing herself over the edge, she met Dora. Hope bloomed inside her like a golden flower, starting as a tiny seedling, and growing into the most beautiful, radiant, flower of them all. Dora with her big hazel eyes, soft demeanor, and kind words, helped Maria overcome some of her sadness, she had something to live for again.

After Maria had finished, I found she had became quiet. She had stopped crying and was only sitting very still. Being a man of my word, I began my story.

"There was a young boy, about the age of 13. He loved wearing dark makeup and spiking his hair up and dyeing it many different colors. It was his first day of middle school, and he'd gotten a few odd looks here and there, but when he stepped into the boys locker room to change, a group of second year boys approached him from across the room, the oldest looking boy was very handsome. He had the most vibrant brown eyes, like warm chocolate. The boy with brown eyes sent the others to guard the doors, then he took the young boy aside and spoke to him in a quiet, demanding voice. He whispered all sorts of things that made the boy's skin crawl, and made him want what he offered. The young boy agreed, at first it was wonderful and sweet. Then everything changed, eyes that had once been warm, had turned cold. He became rough, too rough. Leaving bruises were nobody would notice. One day, the handsome boy took him to an old rundown shed behind the school, it was covered in weeds, and seemed on the verge of collapsing. The young boy was roughly pushed inside and stripped, he remembers something hard being roughly slammed into him, and the pain! Oh how it burned! Yet he remained as quiet as he could, when he was done, he left him bleeding on the dirt floor, he laughed and left without so much as a backwards glance. When the young boy got home, he made sure to clean himself up before greeting his mother with the same smile, and she didn't noticed a thing. She didn't notice when he started wearing long-sleeved shirts to hide the growing scars, as the young boy grew up and entered high school, things became worse, he was bullied to no extent for the way he dressed, at last he decided to drop out and start a band, he got tattoos to cover his scars, and that was how he ended up where he was. Writing music to get the message out, to try and open peoples eyes to what was happening, and yet, even now they still judged him, but like you, he'd found a reason to go on, a tall and lanky boy with the most amazing laugh, and now here he is, still trying to remove the blindfold from everyone's eyes, but with the help of the tall and lanky boy who saved his life."